


Fields of Ash

by yelp



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26603611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yelp/pseuds/yelp
Summary: When Jera's life's work goes up in smoke, her rival does the unexpected.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Hold Me: A Comfort Prompfest





	Fields of Ash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellenmillion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellenmillion/gifts).



> Written for [this prompt](https://sholio.dreamwidth.org/1347813.html?thread=19970533#cmt19970533): "two rival business owners, in the aftermath of an earthquake or natural disaster that destroys one of the businesses". Thanks for the lovely prompt!

"Congratulations," rasped Jera, between coughs, as she watched her rival approach. "You've won. You'll be first to market now." 

She took another swig of water from her bottle, but it didn't help, nothing did. Her throat was still scratched raw, her lungs felt like they had filled with smoke in that burning factory, and would never manage to expel it. She'd made so many trips in, waking her workers, dragging them out, carrying them if she had to. It had all happened so fast, there hadn't been enough time. 

That was the trouble, with wheat fields. 

For all the millions that had gone into their engineering, for all the articles about "the golden ticket", "the miracle gene", uniquely nutritious and shelf-stable and hardy—apply the smallest spark of flame, and for all of that, they were nothing more than tinder. The fire had consumed it in the blink of an eye, and there had been nothing to do but evacuate, before the factory went too. 

From the ridge she'd retreated to, she could see that the golden miracle fields were nothing but piles of char now, still smoking and smoldering, the factory a burnt-through husk, once filled itself with combustibles, paper and grain. Soft ash fluttered from the sky, settling on her bowed head and bare forearms, feather-light like kisses. 

"You were pulling all-nighters on the production line," Eilie observed, "all of you," and that was more than she could take. Jera surged to her feet, or tried to. Stumbled instead, and was caught against Eilie's shoulder, one of her strong farmer's arms coming up and catching her, holding her steady while she dissolved into another bout of coughing. 

"It's my fault," Jera admitted miserably, when she had the breath. She thought she would be crying, if she hadn't been scorched dry through and through. "If I hadn't been in such a rush... if I hadn't been blinded by my own greed, my ambition..." 

She'd always been like that. Succumbed to the frenzy of work, let it take her every waking moment, and her dreaming ones besides. It was only now, with the work in ruins, that she had a moment to stop and see how reckless it had all been. Chasing that deadline, chasing Eilie's shadow. Having her workers sleep on pallets on the factory floor, what kind of insanity had that been? It didn't matter that they'd offered, that she'd been right there with them, pulling twice the shifts. Bad enough that the fire happened at all—there should never have been people sleeping here too, only a wall and a dirt path away from the blazing fields. 

"You got them all out," Eilie soothed, and Jera was startled to admit that that's what this was. Soothing. The arm supporting her was also rubbing circles into her back, through the thin material of her pajamas, palm cool and steady. "No one was injured." 

Jera finally looked at Eilie, really looked, for the first time. The taller woman, usually so put-together, was covered in soot too, dark smudges all over her face and hastily thrown-on clothes. Her long hair was pulling from its habitual bun, lending her sharp features a softer look, and drawing attention to her shoulders, bare against the cool night air. Her jacket was bundled into her free arm, and Jera found herself drawing back to stare at it.

"It was chaos when I got here, but I know you, Jera. You prioritized your workers' lives over your life's work, as I knew you would." 

Both arms now free, Eilie unwrapped the bundle, revealing tubes and tubes of wheat seeds, filling out an entire tray, each neatly labeled in Jera's own hand. All her experiments—every generation, every germination—preserved here, in Eilie's arms. 

"I admire that choice. I don't know if I could have made it. I thought you shouldn't have had to either."

"But... why?" Jera reached for them, and saw that her outstretched fingertips were shaking. "You could have left them... You could have done nothing. You could have..."

"Won?" Eilie finished for her. "Neither of us wins until the market has its say, you know that."

The thinnest crescent of a smile touched her lips, as she handed the precious bundle over. "I can't win or lose until you bring your strain to market. All I ask is that you hurry up and regrow, so we can really compete."


End file.
